


Dancing with the Darkness

by Ripwhitewolf



Category: Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: A whole mix of angsty self-reflection and whatever the thing between these two is, Angst, Bittersweet, Closure, F/M, Love, Mind Games, Post Ruin and Rising, Power Dynamics, Set after King of Scars, The Darkling is taken to see Alina at Keramzin, but not the sexy kind, post king of scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-04-05 04:04:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19040779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ripwhitewolf/pseuds/Ripwhitewolf
Summary: She hadn’t been prepared for the rush of emotions that swelled inside her at the sight of him. Terror, fury, grief all coiled around her and settled like a stone in her stomach. She was startled to notice that despite herself, underneath that was something else. An inkling of relief. She hated herself for it.He was still beautiful. She didn’t know if she’d expected anything else, but it still took her breath away. He was taller though, thinner. She supposed that was because of the boy’s body he’d taken over. Yuri, Nikolai had said he was called. Alina wondered if he was still there at all, trapped in his mind and helpless, similar to how she had been under the control of the collar. From what she had heard of Yuri though, he probably considered it an honour, a necessary sacrifice. She stopped herself from shivering at the thought and met his cool grey stare, refusing to give anything away.





	Dancing with the Darkness

Alina’s feet slipped on sudden incline in the path and she cursed, almost dropping the lantern she held in her fist. She adjusted herself, keeping a tighter grip on the lantern’s handle as she continued her way down the sloping path that lead to the garden shed behind Keramzin. Not a particularly avid gardener, Alina had had little reason to venture down this way. She was unfamiliar with the terrain and not particularly sure-footed at the best of times, so a trip down in the dark of the night was never going to yield particularly good results. Especially not this night.

The darkness felt deeper somehow, dense blackness looming around the fringes of her lantern. She hoped it was a trick of her imagination, the fear and dread in the back of her mind making the shadows seem like something to be afraid of. She’d been told he was too weak to summon much, and she held onto that information to propel herself down the path. The initial panic Alina had felt at the news of his return was gone, now she just felt a cold acceptance. An acceptance that despite the fear that gripped her she would have to face him, and she ready. She was armoured, a soldier steeled for battle.

The path levelled and she could see the outline of the small shed just beyond the touch of her lantern. Two figures stood either side of the door and their golden eyes caught the light when she approached. Tolya and Tamar caught her gaze and their expressions sparked twin looks of reverence and joy at the sight of her. It has been a long time since someone had looked at her like that, like she was someone powerful. It caused a mixture of feelings inside her that she didn’t care to examine too closely. Regardless, it was good to see them. In any other circumstance she would have thrown her arms around them both and insisted they tell her everything about their lives in Os Alta. But now was not the time. Instead she reached out and gripped both their hands, squeezing them seeking both a greeting and comfort. They both gave her a steady squeeze back, then Tolya reached forward and opened the rickety door to the shed. Steeling herself, she stepped through.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust. The lantern she held was the only source of light in the room. Another time, in another life, she wouldn’t have needed the lantern at all. It never did well to dwell on these thoughts, so she focused instead on adjusting to the light as she hung the lantern from a hook on the ceiling.

She hadn’t been prepared for the rush of emotions that swelled inside her at the sight of him. Terror, fury, grief coiled around her and settled like a stone in her stomach. She was startled to notice that despite herself, underneath that was something else. An inkling of relief. She hated herself for it.

He was still beautiful. She didn’t know if she’d expected anything else, but it still took her breath away. He was taller though, thinner. She supposed that was because of the boy’s body he’d taken over. Yuri, Nikolai had said he was called. Alina wondered if he was still there at all, trapped in his mind and helpless, similar to how she had been under the control of the collar. From what she had heard of Yuri though, he probably considered it an honour, a necessary sacrifice. She stopped herself from shivering at the thought and met his cool grey stare, refusing to give anything away.

“Hello Alina.” That same smooth, clear voice spoke too loud in the dark. It felt like it had shattered something, broken the illusion she hadn’t realised she’d built. A part of her hadn’t truly believed he had returned but now that he’d spoken her name in the same voice she heard in both nightmares and dreams, there was no denying it. The Darkling was alive.

“Hello Aleksander.” She spoke steadily, and his lips quirked in amusement at the use of his name. It seemed a strange setting for this, to see him bound to a chair surrounded by old gardening tools and compost bags, but they had had nowhere else for him. Keramzin didn’t have a dungeon, and there was no way she could travel to the capital and risk being recognised. So, the small, slightly rotting shed would be the location of their reunion.

His eyes travelled over her, taking in her peasant skirts and the loose fall of her white hair. “You look… very ordinary,” he said simply.

“And you look very alive for someone I stabbed in the chest,” she replied.

His amusement irritated her. Humour was the last thing she felt and that fact he found her so entertaining made her old stubbornness spike insider her. She was hit the familiar desire to wipe the smile off his face. But, a part of his surety unnerved her. She couldn’t help but feel that maybe it meant he knew something they didn’t. Or maybe he was just toying with them, trying to unsettle them. Regardless she did not trust the easiness in him now. She had seen how quickly the switch could flip, seen his grey eyes harden to stone and she knew too well the cruelty that often followed.

“I do apologise to disappoint you Sankta,” he said, a light mocking tone to his voice.

Alina did not react, did not allow him the satisfaction. Instead, she stared at him coolly for a long moment. She was not going to play this game with him.

“You said you would help Nikolai if you were taken to see me. Why?”

“Is it so difficult to believe I just wanted to see you?” he said, his lips still twisted in that frustrating smirk.

Alina shot him a dark look. “Yes.”

His eyes sparkled. “I wanted to know how you like otkazat’sya life, if a powerless existence is all you’d hoped it be.” His mocking tone was back, and she could tell he was trying to goad a reaction out of her. She would not let him hold power over her.

“It is. And more.”

And there it was, the switch. The humour was gone from his voice when he said, “What a waste you are Alina Starkov. We could have bought the world to its knees.”

“Did you really come all this way to have this same old conversation?” she said tiredly. “You know that’s never what I wanted.”

“What you wanted has continuously interfered with my interests,” he said, teeth gritted.

“I could say the same for you,” she replied evenly.

A long silence followed, and when he spoke again his words surprised her. “Did you grieve me Alina? I will grieve for you. I already do.” She searched his face. What game was this? She had nothing to give him, and surely he had not come all this way to talk of this again. But there was no point denying the loss she had felt as his life had bled away underneath her hands, and the sadness she still felt at the memory of his crumpled body.

“I grieve you Aleksander. I grieve the man you could have been. I grieve the man your mother loved.” Something flickered in his expression at the mention of Baghra. Alina wondered if her words haunted him like they sometimes did her.

_Know that I loved you. Know that it was not enough._

He sneered when he said, “Is that a man you could have loved Alina? Would you have given me your power if I was kind, if I was like your tracker?”

Alina was tired of thinking about what could have been, but she answered all the same. “Yes.” She could see he hadn’t expected that to be her response. Caught off guard, he had allowed his surprise to show in his features, then something almost like pain. She felt the power shift, his show of weakness leaving him exposed. “We could have been many things if you had chosen a different path,” she said.

“Don’t speak to me about a different path.” He was suddenly seething. “You are the one that gave up eternity for life as a nothing. You will be a blip on history when you could have shaped it. We could have shaped it.”

She could see the grief in him now, and she could understand it. He was looking down the barrel of a very lonely eternity and she understood that fear. She would ease his worries.

Alina walked towards him and watched his surprise as she knelt in front of him. She reached up and rested her hand on his angular cheek. The thing that had once tied them together was gone, and she felt nothing within her leap to meet him as she touched him. The void where the light had once lived inside her was empty and it ached a little. Still, he reacted to her touch as he leaned into it, seemingly frustrated at himself as he did so. She gazed at him steadily as he searched her stare, questioning and wary. Then, she spoke softly.

“That will be little concern of yours when you are dead for good.”

His eyes blazed grey fire. “And will you kill me Alina?”

She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. “I don’t want to,” she replied truthfully, “But I will if I must.”

He laughed then, and if his hands weren’t bound, she thought he might try and grab her. “There is nothing you could do. We were equals once, but now I could crush you.”

She felt none of her earlier fear when she said, “Could you?”

His eyes were still alight in ferocity, but he did not answer her. Instead he held her gaze and she watched as the embers in his eyes died. It startled her to realise this was a concession. Despite all he was and all he’d done; he truly could not kill her. She could see what it cost him to come to this conclusion, and with sudden understanding she realised that was why he was here. To see if she still meant something to him, despite choosing to be what he despised. Powerless. Nothing. Otkazat’sya.

“Do you miss it?” he asked, looking more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him. He seemed aware of this and infuriated by it. She felt the danger of him beneath her hands, but she did not move away.

“Yes,” she replied, unsure if he was talking about him or her powers. Either way it was true. His eyes flickered closed, and he looked younger like that. He looked like Aleksander instead of the Darkling. It was his eyes that were ancient. He had seen so much, and deep weighted grey of his irises gave him away. Without them his lovely face was softer, and the crease of his brow was so human it hurt. It made her think of the lonely boy with too much power that Baghra had once known.

“If you could go back, would you?” he said softly. She could sense how much he wanted her to answer him, and how much he hated the power he had given her.

Alina thought of the dark sand skiff, of the screams of her friends mixed with the wailing cries of the Volcra, of Mal’s body bleeding out on the sand, of the knife shrouded in shadow she had forced into the Darkling’s heart. She still dreamt of the moment her power left her, how it felt to be suddenly empty, to reach for the light and find nothing in response. It was a grief she would always carry, but the pain had lessoned in her confidence of its necessity.

“No,” she said truthfully. “To save Ravka from you, I would do it again without hesitation.”

He opened his eyes and she could see the battle inside him. She was still his equal. Despite no power, despite no promise of eternity, she was his match and she could see the turmoil it caused him. She was not interested in helping him understand it.

Alina lent forward and kissed him lightly between his brows, right on the crease. His breath hitched and she felt him strain against his bonds. There would always be a part of her that cared for him, and she had always hated herself for it. But she was done fighting, him and herself. She stood and stepped away from him. He moved as if to stop her, but the chains around him prevented it.

“I have nothing left to say to you Aleksander. We both chose our path. You will help Nikolai, and I will go about my otkazat’sya life and forget you.”

He sneered; the Darkling’s hateful mask already pulled back over his features. “You could never forget me.”

“No,” she agreed, and without another word slipped out the door, away from him and towards a different kind of light.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love me some Darklina but based on how Ruin and Rising ended, I think this is the most realistic way Alina would respond to him being back. I love the dynamic between these two so much but it is very hard to write and I hope I did it justice.


End file.
